Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2016: Hamlet

Left to right: Jennie Greenberry, Danforth Comins. Photo courtesy Jenny Graham and Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

William Shakespeare’s Hamlet is a masterpiece filled with ambiguity. Why does the titular character take so long to exact his plan of revenge? How real is the ghost of the old king? What is the source of Ophelia’s madness, and what goes through Hamlet’s mind as the events of the play unfold? Though many productions are comfortable with merely asking these questions, this season’s raw, powerful production of Hamlet dares to provide answers.

In an unusual portrayal, Danforth Comins’ Hamlet is practical and focused. He sees his plan to kill Claudius as renewed purpose for his life, and thus most of Hamlet’s actions and dialogue in the first act become small parts of his grander scheme. In this production, it could be said that Hamlet’s fatal flaw, instead of obsession with his uncle, is overconfidence in his plotting; he shows genuine remorse when his scheme starts claiming innocent lives in the second half of the play. This is a fresh and interesting decision on the part of Comins and director Lisa Peterson; many productions portray Hamlet as becoming icy and uncaring the moment he decides to assassinate Claudius.

Other standout characters include Horatio (Christiana Clark) and Polonius (Derrick Lee Weeden). Clark is sincere and emotional without betraying Horatio’s stoic background, and provides a breath of air amidst the unfolding tragedy. In the nest of vipers that is the Danish court, Clark’s Horatio says what she means without ulterior motive. Weeden’s portrayal of Polonius is sympathetic, if a bit naïve; he struggles to maintain the delicacies of his life, but he doesn’t condescend and is a truly caring father. Even Hamlet recognizes this, despite tormenting him throughout the first half; the look of surprise on his face as the dead Polonius falls out of the curtain is a defining moment of his character, and we as the audience understand why.

The sets and costumes (Laura Jellinek and David C. Woolard, respectively) are some of the most profound and meaningful technical theatre I have seen. The promotional materials for the play describe doom metal as a major theme; Hamlet holds a guitar menacingly on the front of the playbill. Yet although the heavy metal is always prevalent on stage (the available furniture is only a few clusters of speakers), the guitars start up solely when peering into the mind of Hamlet, with the exception of Ophelia in the depths of her madness. Allowing only Hamlet the use of the play’s flashiest theme focuses the play internally, making it less about Danish political intrigue and more about the prince’s personal disintegration.

 The use of color in the production deserves special attention. At the beginning of the play, all the characters dress in blacks, whites, and grays, bringing to mind the formality of the aristocracy. As the court sinks into chaos, insanity, and death, red – in the form of blood, light, and props – slowly engulfs the entire stage. Of note are the red highlights present in Ophelia’s hair from the very beginning of the play, subtly hinting at both the collapse of the royal family and her personal decline. The traveling players, however, blast the stage with bright colors to signify their detachment from the rest of the cast.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s 2016 production of Hamlet lives up to expectations set by their stellar 2010 version, yet takes significantly more risks. The outlandish doom metal theme could have been overused; the interpretations of the characters could have been misconstrued. But instead, the 2016 production of Hamlet becomes one of the greatest, most outstanding productions that OSF has staged in recent memory.

Part of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2016 season.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2016: The Wiz

Left to Right: Ashley D. Kelley, J. Cameron Barnett, Christiana Clark, Rodney Gardiner. Photo courtesy Jenny Graham and Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

The Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s adaptations of classic musicals are frequently highlights of the season. The shows go beyond just pleasing crowds; directors explore the context and meaning of each musical and use the Festival’s resources to bring their interpretation to life. OSF combines the glamour of classic musicals with an outstanding ensemble cast to create a fun, enchanting production of The Wiz, the musical that unites L. Frank Baum’s children’s book The Wizard of Oz with the African-American musical styles of the mid-1970s.

Any adaptation of The Wizard of Oz relies on the likeability of Dorothy, who in this production (through August 13) is played by Ashley D. Kelley. Kelley’s portrayal is everything one would expect from the character – a Dorothy not without her faults, but brave, kind, and principled. She serves as not only the protagonist, but also the foil to many of the goofier characters in the play, which makes her determination as funny as it is charming when compared to that of the weaker-willed characters.

Within Dorothy’s party, the standout character is the Cowardly Lion (Christiana Clark). Clark zeroes in on her character immediately – a coward who serves as comic relief, but honestly tries to improve – and goes 100% into her rendition. The Lion steals the show in almost every scene she’s in, and is also responsible for some of the funniest jokes in the show. That said, the Scarecrow (J. Cameron Barnett) and the Tinman (Rodney Gardiner) also put in great performances, and the four of them (including Dorothy) make a fun, lovable group.

Much like the original book, three witches appear throughout the story; however, the Good Witch of the North (Michele Mais), named Addaperle in this production, gets significantly more time onstage than in the source text. Addaperle is the most direct indication that The Wiz is a loving satire of The Wizard of Oz instead of a faithful adaptation, with a lot of metahumor and jokes about her disappointing magical power – Mais delivers the straight-faced performance required of her. Also notable is the Wicked Witch of the West, Evillene (Yvette Monique Clark), whose gleeful villainy and sheer power are as thrilling as they are terrifying.

One cannot write about this show without discussing Jonathan Barbour’s Wiz. Barbour’s charisma and musical performance in his introductory song, “So You Wanted To Meet The Wizard” make it one of the most memorable parts of the show, and he maintains high energy for the remainder of the play. His consistently high internal status is an unexpected twist on the famously insecure character; even when found out as a fraud, the Wiz continues to believe that he is significantly more powerful than everyone else. It’s an unusual interpretation that works well considering the show’s focus on confidence and belief in oneself.

Drawing from traditions of glitzier Broadway musicals, The Wiz discards any sense of modesty and goes completely over the top with its presentation. Lines of glamorous chorus dancers dressed in glittery lightning-bolt outfits become the tornado that whisks Dorothy to Oz; later, the same dancers wear suits of golden sequins to become the Yellow Brick Road. The costumes of Oz denizens are elaborate almost to the point of camp: the Tinman, for example, has a hat that looks like a can top and a Terminator-esque laser eye, and the Wiz’s costume in his first appearance defies description. The sheer audacity of these design choices is entertaining on its own, but the clothing is not without meaning; for example, costume designer Dede M. Ayite made the intelligent decision of dressing Dorothy in plain, regular clothes, accentuating the contrast between the girl from Kansas and the strange land she visits.

The Wiz at OSF is more of a conventional musical than some of the Festival’s previous work, like the “backstage” My Fair Lady or the gritty The Unfortunates. The most direct comparison would be to 2010’s She Loves Me, which also used a set and theme that were fairly standard. However, the production values, wonderful cast, and sheer heart put into this show make it an absolute must-see. If you’re looking for a night of pure entertainment, this show is difficult to top.

Part of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2016 season.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2016: Twelfth Night

Left to right: Elijah Alexander, Sara Bruner. Photo courtesy Jenny Graham and Oregon Shakespeare Festival.

I happened to see the Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s production of Shakespeare’s comedy Twelfth Night on an early trip to the Festival in 2010. This year marked my first opportunity to see OSF produce a play I had seen here once before. Beyond the reframed setting of Twelfth Night, which shifted from a supersaturated Elizabethan era into the Golden Age of Hollywood, multiple adventurous changes in interpretation by the director and the actors demonstrate the versatility of Shakespeare’s language, as well as OSF’s capacity for experimentation.

This season’s setting is a clever choice, playing off Twelfth Night’s themes of music, comedy, and love in fresh ways. Olivia is a calculatingly dramatic film star, Duke Orsino her director, and the remainder of the cast mostly the various hangers-on who have been basking in the light of the Hollywood elite since the first studios were established. Besides supporting the text, these new roles allow for off-script antics – including, of course, the glamorous musical number at the end of the show – similar to those in OSF’s excellent 2012 rendition of Animal Crackers.

Along with the broader themes of the play, many of the individual characters develop in unexpected ways. Chief among these are Danforth Comins’ Sir Andrew Aguecheek and Rodney Gardiner’s Feste. While Shakespeare wrote the character Aguecheek as a gutless coward, Comins portrays him as a careless fop, never without a martini glass in hand, someone who isn't afraid of combat as much as he simply doesn't care for it. The humor in the script shines through with this variation, which allows Comins plenty of room to creatively interpret the part.

Gardiner brings the same nervous energy that made him an incredible Nathan Detroit in last year’s Guys and Dolls. He creates a version of Feste that – surprisingly for one of Shakespeare’s fools – actually cares what other people think about him. Rather than an untouchable fountain of one-liners, Gardiner’s Feste is an average Joe who happens to have a talent for entertaining (and annoying) people. His performance demonstrates the endless permutations to which Shakespeare’s language can be taken, and the actor employs of broad theatrical talent when performing it.

The rest of the ensemble also makes tremendous contributions to the work. Ted Deasy plays a stuffy, formal Malvolio who provides the most physical comedy out of the entire cast. Sara Bruner performs the roles of twins Viola and Sebastian with innocence and cheerful vigor. Elijah Alexander’s Orsino, adopting a German accent, assumes a high status over the rest of the cast – an interesting choice, considering the character is prone to be overcome by bursts of emotion. And Olivia, portrayed by Gina Daniels, hides her true intentions in as many ways as she has costume changes.

Christopher Acebo’s gray-tone set matches the color scheme of 1930’s Hollywood; against this background, lighting director Robert Wierzel plays bursts of red and blue as needed for the emotional needs of the scene. Beyond the spectacle one would anticipate from OSF, Twelfth Night also includes tasteful film effects thanks to Shawn Duan – included throughout the play, the movies evoke the magic that turn-of-the-century audiences encountered when they experienced film for the first time.

OSF’s 2016 production of Twelfth Night finds unique places to grow the text, but doesn’t stray so far from core themes to be unrecognizeable. The production is a symbol of the importance the Festival places on reimagining Shakespeare’s canon on both obvious and subtle levels. This capacity for change and the company's willingness to reinvent their voice each year, makes OSF a fresh experience season after season.

Part of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2016 season.

Berkeley Rep: Treasure Island

Left to right: Steven Epp, John Babbo. Photo courtesy Kevin Berne and Berkeley Repertory Theatre.

The images in Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1883 book Treasure Island – the map with a big X over the buried treasure, the menacing pirate with the peg leg and parrot, the deserted island where lie the skeletons of a treacherous crew – have been irrevocably burned into the Western cultural consciousness. There have been dozens of adaptations in the past hundred years, yet it takes the touch of a director like Mary Zimmerman – a specialist in adapting larger-than-life tales to theatre – to make Stevenson’s work come to life on stage. Berkeley Rep’s production of Treasure Island cuts to the core of this swashbuckling adventure, creating a tense, riveting, and, above all, exciting play.

When reviewing an adaptation of Treasure Island, one must first discuss the most important element of the story: Long John Silver, the scoundrel who singlehandedly created the pop culture pirate. Actor Steven Epp emphasizes Silver’s trickster qualities, playing him as a veteran who compensates for his age and missing leg by being five times craftier than the rest of the characters. He is also fascinatingly ambiguous, switching sides multiple times in a single scene in an attempt to balance his own greed with escaping both justice and his mutinous band of ruffians. One particular piece of social gymnastics near the end of the play is more impressive than the multi-story gunfights.

The rest of the ensemble keeps up with Epp’s larger-than-life performance. Former Broadway actor John Babbo plays Jim Hawkins, teenage cabin boy and viewpoint character, with the pluck and courage one would expect from a Victorian-era protagonist. Castaway Ben Gunn (Steve Pickering) uses a boisterous physicality to punctuate his performance, dancing and leaping with joy when given his sudden redemption. My personal favorite supporting character, Squire Trelawney (Matt DeCaro), is the perfect aristocratic fop, whose loose lips and naiveté create trouble for the protagonists while the audience laughs at his bumbling demeanor.

Like many of Zimmerman’s works, Treasure Island uses music, visuals, and movement to further engage the audience the way only live theatre can accomplish. Traditional sea shanties punctuate the action, furthering slow parts of the plot and adding an eerie sense of adventure to the story as a whole. Todd Rosenthal’s set, consisting of a broad curved “floor” combined with lots of rigging, serves as a blank canvas while simultaneously suggesting a connection to the British nautical tradition in every scene. The costumes, designed by Ana Kuzmanic, separate the clean and crisp British loyalists from the grimy, practical pirates, making everyone’s allegiances identifiable on sight.

The most impressive part of Mary Zimmerman’s Treasure Island at Berkeley Rep is its utter sincerity. The plot is familiar to us, the characters effectively archetypes, but Zimmerman respects the source material and, except for a throwaway line where Long John Silver breaks the fourth wall, plays everything completely straight. To survive in the modern era, theatre needs the occasional injection of fun, goofy or not, and Treasure Island provides the excitement that we crave.

Theatreworks: tokyo fish story

Left to right: Francis Jue, Linden Tailor, James Seol. Photo courtesy Kevin Berne and Theatreworks.

Very few activities reflect the human spirit and its desire for transcendence like the precision and craft of cuisine. In particular, the culture built around sushi and its construction, as revealed to broader America in the documentary Jiro Dreams of Sushi, is slow, grueling, and demanding of perfection. Kimber Lee’s tokyo fish story, directed at Theatreworks by Kirsten Brandt, uses both character interactions and broader structure to contrast the art of sushi with the demands of the real world.

In a way, tokyo fish story is two plays at once: The poetic saga of sushi master Koji (Francis Jue), as his restaurant weathers a changing Japan, and the realist drama of his son Takashi (James Seol), who quashes his own culinary innovations out of fealty to his father. The merger of the two serves not only as a multifaceted look at a complex family relationship, but gives Koji the vulnerability he needs to become more than just a strict father.

Seol’s Takashi is the standout performance in the Theatreworks production. Though second apprentice Nobu (Linden Tailor) makes fun of him for being almost as uptight as Koji, in reality Takashi masks the pain of not knowing whether his father will ever see him as an equal. Takashi is a different person to every character in the play, and Seol portrays him with the beautiful emotional delicacy required for the audience to understand this.

Nobu’s role is meant to push Takashi into action and to provide a dose of levity. A lot of plays have similar “jester” characters, many of whom are loud and into pop culture (Star Wars in this case). Nobu serves this role while genuinely caring about his job and his mentor. While Tailor never tones down his intensity, he still finds ways to show his dedication to his work.

Wilson Chin’s set flips the conventions of the proscenium theatre on its head to meet the varying needs of the production. Normally, the stage is used to create a two-dimensional effect like a television screen, but here, the multi-tiered wooden framing and use of suspended sculpture create a theatre space that can be unified or split into narrow zones as the direction demands. This creates room for the actors to maneuver, but still feels cramped and uncomfortable like a tiny kitchen.

tokyo fish story at Theatreworks is a look into a life profoundly different from our own, where a three-decade apprenticeship is not unexpected, and one can not notice a neighbor has been gone for two years. It’s a play that observes multiple lives traveling at different speeds, and how someone “irrelevant” can still be incredibly important. Rather than critiquing the pace of the current generation, Lee is simply sitting at the counter and asking us questions about how things will change.

Oregon Shakespeare Festival 2016 Season

Each year, the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, located in scenic Ashland, Oregon, produces 11 plays in repertory. About half of them are the works of Shakespeare, with the rest a mixture of contemporary plays, older musicals, and shows by classic playwrights.

Ashland itself is a wonderful place for a vacation. A variety of quality restaurants with fresh ingredients, lots of nearby trails and parks, and a thriving visual arts scene make the town a favorite destination.

Here are some of the most exciting plays of OSF’s 2016 season:

Twelfth Night (dir. Christopher Liam Moore)

Runs February 19 through October 30

While OSF’s previous version of this play was set in a color-saturated Elizabethan England, this year’s production is based on glamorous 1930’s Hollywood musicals. Because of the play’s strong themes of music and love, as well as the nicely wrapped-up ending where the villain gets his due, it feels like a great fit.

Director Christopher Liam Moore has worked mostly on contemporary plays during his 6-year career at OSF, but he also directed the semi-modern adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in 2013.

The River Bride (by Marisela Treviño Orta, dir. Laurie Woolery)

Runs February 21 through July 7

The River Bride, which had several productions around the West Coast prior to this performance, is a mystical, dreamlike story-play based partially on the Amazonian myth of dolphins taking human form to seduce women. Historically, OSF’s plays based on mythology, such as 2013’s White Snake, have been extremely successful, and I look forward to seeing how they present this one.

Great Expectations (Adaptation by Penny Metropulos and Linda Alper, dir. Penny Metropulos)

Runs February 20 through October 30

This new adaptation of Great Expectations captures the over-the-top characters and dramatic twists of fate that one would expect from one of Dickens' greatest novels. Stage versions of Dickens stories (excepting A Christmas Carol) are surprisingly rare, so it is a treat to see such a quality theatrical company take on the challenge.

Hamlet (dir. Lisa Peterson)

Runs June 7 through October 14

Hardly anything is more exciting than a production of Hamlet by one of the greatest Shakespeare repertories in the country. This version, directed by guest artist Lisa Peterson, emphasizes the themes of madness and doubt present in the play: Is Hamlet avenging the murder of a noble king, or killing an innocent man in a haze of grief?

While the 2010 production cast Dan Donohue in the titular role, this year’s Hamlet is played by Danforth Comins, most notable for his incredible portrayal of Stanley Kowalski in 2013’s A Streetcar Named Desire. It will be exciting to see what he brings to the part.

The Wiz (Book by William F. Brown, music and lyrics by Charlie Smalls, dir. Robert O’Hara)

Runs June 8 through October 15

This year, OSF’s recent tradition of directing classic 20^th-century musicals in fascinating ways arrives at the all-Black adaptation of The Wizard of Oz – the one that took audiences by storm in 1974. Director Robert O’Hara, who also wrote the play Insurrection: Holding History, frequently focuses on the conflicts between identity and the past in his work, and I look forward to what messages he will add to and discover within The Wiz. 

The Winter’s Tale (dir. Desdemona Chiang)

Runs June 9 through October 16

Shakespeare’s rarely performed tragicomedy, featuring magic, miracles, and the most famous bear-related stage direction of all time, arrives at the Elizabethan Theatre this year. For this production, director Desdemona Chiang has adapted the play across multiple times, setting it simultaneously in dynastic China and America’s West in the 19^th Century. One of the great benefits of large Shakespeare festivals like OSF is their willingness to take risks with uncommon works, and a production of The Winter’s Tale is a rare treat.

Santa Clara University: The Good Doctor

Left to right: Cameron Wells, Kalina Venugopal, Michael Standifer, Nick Medal, Claire Parchem. Photo courtesy Santa Clara University. 

One might not think of the works of Anton Chekhov as being rich material for comedy. However, the Russian author and playwright had a wit that was sadly overshadowed by early dour productions of his work. In the 1970’s, Neil Simon adapted some of Chekhov’s short stories into The Good Doctor, effectively Chekhov-turned-sketch-comedy. Santa Clara University’s current production, helmed by director Aldo Billingslea, makes the Chekhov/Simon duet shine brightly.

Some of the scenes are straightforward: “Surgery” features a vaudeville duo – an incompetent doctor (Drew Descourouez) and a priest with a toothache (Elahdio Aliaga), while in “A Defenseless Creature,” a loud woman (Kalina Venugopal) torments a bank manager and his assistant (Aliaga and Descourouez again – all of the actors play a handful of characters). These are scenarios common to old comedy, but Simon’s framing structure – using a nameless writer (Cameron Wells) to open and close each scene – provides a level of metahumor.

Later scenes have more complex structure and unusual jokes. My personal favorite was the late scene “A Quiet War,” where Nick Medal and Claire Parchem assume the roles of retired high officers who have a formal, strategized argument over what makes the perfect lunch. Despite the characters’ similarities, the actors interpreted them differently: Medal’s Army officer is loud and brash, while Parchem’s Navy is sly and willing to bend the rules of their argument. They might be at each other’s throats, but one can get a sense of their deep friendship.

The SCU production combines the sophistication of Chekhov’s characters and scenarios with the fundamentals of mid-20^th-century comedy. Jerald Enos’ set hints at the more elaborate, realistic sets commonly used for Chekhov’s plays, but all of the larger elements are moved to the back, allowing ample room for Simonesque slapstick. Billingslea’s flexible direction both makes use of the empty space for slapstick and what set elements exist for scenes like “The Drowned Man”.

Featuring a funny, versatile cast and the unique combination of Chekhov/Simon comedy, Santa Clara University’s The Good Doctor makes a great evening. Most likely, you will find that some of the scenes are funnier or more appealing to you than others, but it’s never a dull moment. This testifies to the wide diversity of the material, as well as the breadth and imagination of the SCU production.